End Of A Tombkeeper-Thiefshipping
by Dragon Bakura
Summary: Marik embarks on an adventure back to his homeland of Egypt to finish his rights as the heir to the tombkeepers' heritage. Two twists, he left Bakura this time and the tombkeepers' rights involves self-sacrifice. Will Bakura make it in time to prevent Marik from preforming those rights? Only "time" will tell


It had been several months since Marik left the city and made his way back to his home in the desert of Egypt. As he walked along the outskirts of a local village towards his old tomb, he let his mind drift back to the best times of his life. Battle City being one of his best memories and worst at the same time. His inner Yami exposed, befriending Bakura, watching both of them perish during the games, then seeing Bakura again before he was ultimately destroyed along with Zorc in the past. Then he met him again through some strange twist of fate and for a long while they became close, real close. He sighed softly as he turned and walked down a small alleyway that lead to the stables where he had acquired a horse for traveling. It was nothing like the steed he used to ride, but, the gelding seemed to be good enough. Speaking to the stable owner in Egyptian, he paid him before going to his mount and saddling him for the ride back to the tomb. He looked around as he slipped a small amount of food into the saddlebags along with a specially wrapped item that he had gotten from the local priest at the high council. Mounting up, he spurred the steed and galloped into the scorching desert.

His blond hair waved into the wind as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander back again. Bakura and him had became more than close friends, they were in fact, lovers. And though Bakura never once said he "loved" him, inside Marik knew that he did since he too felt the same way. The word "love" slipped from his own lips a few times until he learned not to bother saying it because he'd only receive grunts or grumbles in return...or often a reply would come back as "I hate you or despise you". Shrugging, he opened his eyes and let a few tears stream down his cheeks. It wasn't like it mattered all that much now anyway and soon it wouldn't matter at all.

The horse paused when he hauled upon the reins, stopping at a small, yet, lush oasis near by the tomb and slid from the horses' back. He unbridled and unsaddled the animal before stroking its' silken neck, then rubbing its' nose and speaking softly to him. "Go, you are free, my pet~" He stoked him a few more times before swatting its' rear and sending it along its' way to freedom. He picked up the saddle and took the items from the bag before dropping the saddle down again and walking away. He paused at the tomb entrance and looked all around before sitting on the old stone outcrop like he did when he was a young child and dreaming one day of riding his motorcycle into the wilderness, and about being free. A soft wind rustled his hair as a smile crossed his dark lips, his imagination taking him back to that time as he shifted onto the stone and mimicked riding an invisible bike and making noises similar to the sounds. He was a child again, if only for a brief time.

All too soon he opened his eyes and frowned before moving off the stone with a sigh. At times he wished he could go back in time himself, there would be many things he would have changed in his own life, not that he regretted everything, but, there were some things. He looked out over the horizon and wondered to himself.."How could anyone forgive me for the things I've done? I've caused so much drama and chaos with my dark half, even if I wasn't in control at the time. So many people got hurt. So many lives changed and I've got this to bear with me until my dying days." He looked at the tomb opening and cast his eyes downward. Part of the reason he returned after all this time was to finish telling the story. It was his duty as the main heir to the tombkeepers to continue the hieroglyphics that were written. To tell of the Pharaohs return and whether he succeeded or not, to which he did and returned to his own time.

Picking up the bags with food and the special package, he made his way into the deep and dark recesses of the tomb, pressing a stone button to close the stone door behind him. As he moved downward along the stairs, he lit the torches to light his way, until he reached the bottom and took one into his hand to guide him to the other torches along the walls. Once all the chambers were lit, he placed the torch he had back in its' place and moved to the chamber that was his room. He sat the bags of food beside the old stone and straw bed and the special package upon it before seating himself down gazing at the floor. The stench of the musty old straw filled his nose and causing him to sneeze a few times before he got up, removing the package and sweeping it all away. The stone bed was cold and unforgiving as he sat back down, then stretched out upon it, placing the package upon his chest before placing his arms under his head.

Memories flashed through his mind, at times he smiled and at others, tears freely fell, streaming down his bronze cheeks to the stone below him. How he missed Bakura, his only real friend that he trusted more than anyone else. He knew that Bakura would be enraged when he found out that he left, but, it couldn't be helped. Not this time. This time fate and destiny took a different twist, he had unfinished business with the tomb and his own destiny. He closed his eyes and let out a lengthy sigh that echoed in his chamber, placing his hand upon the special package that laid upon his chest. The items in the special crimson cloth was blessed by one of the highest priests in Egypt and would be needed soon in his venture, but, also had to be timed right. He had 3 days to finish the hieroglyphics, the time when the moon rose at it's peak in full bloom and shone it's radiance into the chamber, then he would have to preform his ritual.

Several hours passed as he rested upon the cold stone bed before he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling and its' intricate designs that his mother had made for him along with markings he made himself. He grunted lightly as he sat up and rummaged through the food sack, pulling out some bread and a melon, then ate the items. He had a lot of writing to do and needed the energy for it. Thankfully, he learned how to chisel the stone with ease and accuracy as a child and picked up speed as he got older..otherwise, he'd never meet the deadline with the rising of the coming full moon.

When he was finished eating, he got up and stretched before leaving the room and moving towards the main chamber, the place that held all the stories of the Pharaohs' legacy throughout history, all except his name which Marik had to include with his part of the story to etch out. He looked over the etchings, following it to where it left off and smiled, placing his hand over a small figure which indicated his own birth and his story. He stood there for a long moment, having flash backs of his childhood, seeing his mother one last time as he reached down and picked up the rusted chisel. Slowly at first, he began carving into the stone, the continuing tale, from the moment Yugi put the puzzle together to the Pharaohs' spirit being released to become one with the boy. Then moved on to how the bonded spirit and mortal soul went on to Duelist Kingdom to win the Duel Monsters event, about his friends along the way that helped to his enemies, including how Bakura regained his own body through the boy who wore his Ring.

He worked feverishly for 2 days, taking time to rest and eat along the way, even thinking back on his memories and finding he often thought of Bakura and wondered what he must be thinking by now with him not returning. There was a short period of time that sobbing could be heard echoing throughout the chambers as he cried, alone and feeling intense remorse. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to see him like this since it made him feel incredibly weak since he was raised in the belief that men shouldn't cry. Wiping the tears from his reddened eyes, he crawled off the stone bed and went back to the main chamber again, picking up the chisel and chipping into the wall about the final days while it was still fresh in his mind.

When it came to the part of Bakura being destroyed with Zorc, the tears fell again automatically. Even though technically the boy named Bakura lived on, he was never really as close to him as he was to the Yami. Both Yami Bakura and himself had very similar pasts, connecting them stronger than any of the others, both slaves of sorts to their own desires. Marik sought vengeance for the years that the Ishtars had slaved to the Pharaoh to keep his legacy alive, for him having been raped of his childhood by spending it in this place away from the outside world. Bakura had sought vengeance towards the Pharaoh too, for losing his village and family, and also bearing the burden of being a slave for the crimes he had to commit in order to live, cast out from the outside world in his own way. Yes, indeed, both of them shared many similarities only having different paths that walked a parallel towards the same end.

He continued on, tapping out the story of little Yugi battling the Pharaoh in their end game and the Pharaoh losing in order to be finally set free. He tapped into the stone how the Pharaoh walked into the light of that chamber door to his final resting place. Marik paused, then started chiseling again. What the others didn't see, he himself saw alone and let the tears flow again. After the others had left, Marik went back into the chamber since he was small enough to worm through the collapsed stones, to gather some of the things that got left behind in their rush from the place. With the items in hand and preparing to leave, the chamber doors opened again and illuminated the room making Marik pause to look back. It was then he witnessed Bakura entering the light, changing from the Yami into The Thief King Akefia. Standing in silence for a moment, he watched before calling out softly to the spirit..."Bakura..don't go~"

The spirit stopped, looking back in bewilderment that even one person would be there to witness his passing and smiled a genuine smile. Bakura was touched at this, even though he only knew of dark and evil ways, somethings couldn't be explained. He shook his head and replied.."Marik, I don't belong here any more than the Pharaoh did. It's finally my time to rest. Go now and live in your world as it should be." He turned without saying anything further and walked into the light as the doors closed behind him. Saddened, Marik made his way out of the chamber before it completely collapsed. This would be something he'd never forget and carried deep within him as he chiseled out the final etchings and laid the chisel down. He then picked up the chisel one more time and carved a heart upon the wall and both his and Bakuras' name into it with a soft smile.

He left the room with half the daylight hours left and decided to eat the remaining foods in his room, looking over at the crimson package again and let his thoughts wander. As he remembered from before, somehow, fate twisted slightly and he met up with Yami Bakura again in Domino City since he had to go back with his sister to sign off the paperwork for the museum to keep the stone carvings of the Pharaoh. For several years after that, he lived with Yami Bakura and learned that because his spirit was made up of multiple souls, he was able to come back and live out his life, letting his past rest in Akefia. They became close, lovers in fact, but, the words of love never slipped from Bakuras' lips. After a while, and several break ups that landed them together again, Marik decided that his own destiny /had/ to be fulfilled. It was a dark morning when he stepped out of the doors to the house and left for Egypt, only leaving a letter of apology behind.

He got up from the bed and took the crimson packaged cloth in his hands and left the room, heading into a special chamber where the sky could be seen. Judging from the sky above, Marik figured he had a few more hours left before he had to preform the sacrificial ritual, when the full moon illuminated that particular place. He was never more scared than he was at that very moment, his life as a tombkeeper coming full circle, like the full moon that broke the horizon outside. He didn't want to do this, but, it was his duty and there was no one left to carry on his legacy and no one would be there to witness history coming to an end for his clan. He opened the cloth and eyed over the special candles and ceremonial dagger before setting them in the center of a large carved circle on the stone floor. Each area of the circle was etched out in various characters that meant specific things in the ritual of death.

Unbeknownst to Marik, Bakura /did/ make it to Egypt and carefully studied Mariks' trail to the tomb. He wasn't sure what Marik was planning, but, had very bad feelings about it. Growling and utilizing the skills of his former self, he looked over the tomb door for a means to open it and finding the tiny stone trigger to open it. Once inside, he didn't bother to close the doors and crept with stealth down the stairs, keeping his ears and sense open to anything, including noises. He carefully scanned each room as he came to it, looking for any signs that Marik had been there or still was. He was almost about to give up when he came to Mariks' personal chamber and noted the empty food sack and rotting straw upon the floor. He /was/ there and judging from more indicators, not long ago. He moved into the main chamber and looked at all the fresh carvings upon the wall. He read them expertly, noting that they told the tale of everything that happened. He drew in a breath and held it fast when he saw the part about his destruction as his eyes moved swiftly over the final writings. His eyes then fell upon the tiny heart with their names, exhaling softly as he placed his hand upon the icy wall. "Marik, what the bloody hell are you up to? Where are you in this tomb?" His voice slipped out quietly, listening for any sounds and hearing nothing. He removed his hand and his eyes caught a small area with really ancient etchings and dusted away a few layers of sand with a sharp gasp. The tombkeepers' rights. His eyes darted over them swiftly as his eyes widened..Marik was going to kill himself and end the legacy. "Marik NO!" He half shouted.

Marik was busy reading out his rights and didn't hear Bakuras' voice over his own as he chanted in the ancient language, lost to what was about to happen. He was adorned in his ritualistic Egyptian garb, with the circle lit with candles at specific points, along with pure white sand cris-crossing over its' center and him sitting in the center with the dagger in his hands. Raising it up with the flats of both his hands towards the night sky above, he chanted to bless the dagger as the first rays of the moon entered the shaft, illuminating its' silvery edges. Marik glanced up at the moon before continuing his chant and lowering the dagger to his lap, then bowing his head in a silent prayer. With movements that seemed to be in slow motion, he raised the dagger again, this time pointing its' point directly at his chest just as Bakura came bolting into the room, crying out. "MARIK STOP!"

He didn't move or jump for a long moment, not even looking at Bakura, transfixed in a trance-like state. His words that followed, slipped from his lips coldly. "What are you doing here? This is no place for you. Go home and leave me to finish my ritual now." Bakura blinked, he'd never heard him sound so cold, not even when he had his inner darkness. "No! I will not let you do this. There /must/ be another way." Marik closed his eyes, inwardly glad Bakura made it there for him like he did when Akefia walked into the light. "There is /no/ other way. It is my duty as a tombkeeper to end this legacy and by end, it means my death." Bakura growled, eying the situation and desperately trying to see if he could tactfully prevent this from following through. He may be a cold-hearted bastard himself at times, but, he cared deeply for this blonde Egyptian.

Marik knew that he was running out of time, with the full moon bursting into the chamber and illuminating the circle he knelt in, his hand shook for but a moment. "I'm sorry Bakura, just know one thing, I always loved you and that I'll carry with me into the afterlife." This time he spoke in Egyptian, his words smooth and meaningful. "This has to..." His hand shook again before plunging the dagger deep into his chest with a harsh gasp at the searing pain before falling backwards slowly. Bakura had moved with lightning-like reflexes, but, not fast enough to prevent the dagger from hitting its' mark, sliding to the floor in time to catch Marik into his arms. "...end" Marik coughed up blood as his eyes fixed on Bakuras' dark orbs. "Marik, you idiot!" Was all Bakura could muster up to say at that moment, cradling him and pulling the dagger slowly from his chest before placing his hand over the wound with a bit of pressure, hoping to stop the bleeding.

Blood pulsed from the wound, soaking Bakuras' hand as they gazed at each other for what seemed like a long time before Bakura broke their silence. "Marik, I know I never said this to you, well, because I could never find the means as to how to say it, but...RA damn it..I love you, you blonde fool!" Marik coughed again before smiling upon hearing his words, at last he could truly be at peace. His breathing started becoming shallow, feeling himself phasing in and out of consciousness, but, never breaking his gaze upon Bakura. Bakura moved his hand and brushed a few strands of his blonde locks from his face before leaning down and kissing Marik passionately, tears soaking his face and dripping onto Mariks' bronze flesh. He felt so helpless, angered, frustrated and sad all at the same time, not being accustomed to that many emotions all at once...especially the love they shared together at that very moment in time. Time...that's it! Bakura moved his hand and rummaged into his coat seeking his sand-timer. If he could reverse time just enough, he could prevent this from happening and ending like this.

Marik started listing his head to the side, his eyes fluttering as Bakura shook him lightly. "Stay with me Marik. Fight it. Come on, I know you're a fighter." He inwardly growled searching pocket to pocket before finding the small, silver decorated item. Closing his eyes momentarily, his Ring glowed as he flipped the timer over, causing time to shift backwards to where he stood at the doorway with Marik holding the dagger poised to strike.

Marik started with the words from before upon hearing Bakuras' voice..."What are you doing here?..." Bakura didn't hesitate this time and lunged forward, ripping the dagger from his hands and throwing it across the room before turning and dropping to his knees, pulling Marik into his arms. "I'm here for you, Marik. That's all that matters right now." Marik was both angered and shocked at the suddenness of all this, but, gave in and draped his arms around Bakuras' shoulders. "You fool, why did you stop me? I didn't think you even cared about me."

Bakura closed his eyes and sighed inwardly before drawing back to look into Mariks' lavender orbs, brushing a few locks from his face. "Just, shut up Marik and kiss me." Marik blushed deeply and obliged, leaning forward as the moonlight illuminated the chamber once more. locking his lips upon Bakuras' in a passionate kiss. After several minutes, Bakura broke the kiss, leaning back slightly as he uttered the words he used from before, "Marik, I know I never said this to you, well, because I could never find the means as to how to say it, but...RA damn it..I love you, you blonde fool!" Marik blinked several times, listening to his confession before smiling genuinely, feeling at peace and complete whilst drawing Bakura into a hug and whispering softly, "I have always loved you, Bakura, and always will." Bakura smiled wrapping his arms tightly around Mariks' waist, just wanting him close and alive in his arms.

Written by Dragon Bakura(c) 2012


End file.
